


Through the Glass, Darkly

by shuns



Series: shuns Death by Quill Entries [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: DBQ 2019, F/M, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Inspired by O. Henry, Junior Death Eaters, Love Triangle, Mirror Magic Round 1, Pining and angst, Still recovering from The Gift of the Magi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 13:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuns/pseuds/shuns
Summary: Set during 7th year, Theo is willing to do whatever is necessary to protecthisLuna, the light to his darkness. He finds with magic a mirror doesn't just reflect light or dark. It can capture you and take youThrough the Glass, Darkly.





	Through the Glass, Darkly

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round1) collection. 



> My thanks to [HeartSandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartSandwich/pseuds/HeartSandwich) best of betas and AWarden acme of alphas who helped beat this story into shape.

 

 

 

 

_...where I acquired a black mirror made in the Venetian style. The oval glass, a cubit in length and a foot across, is clear with no bubbles or other flaws. It is held by a well-carved ebony frame and stand. The reliefs are of the Gorgon Medusa and snakes are prominent throughout._

_The provenance, though dubious, is attributed to Ravenscroft, who perfected flint glass with the addition of lead in 1673. It is said that he paid for that secret in blood. He learned from the Murano wizards then fled to England with their spellcraft and methods. Assassins dispatched from the proud island butchered his family in revenge. Distraught, he bound their blood into the mirror’s backing hoping to preserve their image, though the heinous crime and Dark Magic turned the quicksilver black. I have already used it for scrying, and it is a superior reflection. If it is Ravenscroft’s mirror, I believe it has limitless power due to the blood enchantments._

_Algar Nott’s Personal Journal dated June 23, 1804_

 

Theo paced the room and glanced at his watch again. “Where are you?”

He had waited all summer to see her. He'd been careful on the train, sitting in an adjacent compartment so he could see her reflection when he tilted his head. It was as close as he dared. The stakes were too high now; he couldn’t give anything away.

He heard steps. Then the door was thrown open, and she burst in like dawn breaking. For the first time in months, he could breathe.

“Luna.” She hurled herself at him, and his arms were full of warm, welcoming, wonderful woman. She kissed him all over ending on his lips; for one moment, he gave propriety the shove and allowed it. Then he broke the kiss and took a step back. Oh, how he still wanted those lips. But he couldn’t, she was special, she was pure, she was the only light in his dark, dark life. He grasped her fingers and brought them to his lips, pouring all the longing he felt into the correct action. Never had the right thing felt so wrong.

Smiling, she touched his cheek. “Oh, Galahad, I missed you.” Last year, his sixth and her fifth, when they had first talked he thought she was having a go at him. Even after introducing himself four times, she still called him Galahad. He worried she might be a legilimens and had plucked the memory of when he, Draco, and Blaise were little, playing Merlin and his knights. Draco always Merlin, Blaise Lancelot, and he was Galahad. It gnawed at him all year. Right before they boarded the Express home, he asked, “Why, do you call me Galahad?”

She smiled, “Because he was the noblest and pure of all Arthur's knights.” Then she had kissed him on the lips. His first kiss. He almost missed the train walking around in a daze like a bloody Hufflepuff.

His cheeks heated. “You shouldn't call me that anymore. I’m not brave or noble. Definitely not pure anymore.” He grasped both her hands. “You need to be careful this year.”

He wouldn’t scare her and tell her about his summer spent with Death Eaters, shunting between Malfoy Manor and Nott’s Landing. Or that he had a new tattoo to show for it and knowledge of the depths of depravity in his fellow man. Eager to apply their learning, Greg, Vincent, and Draco had divided the girls up. Vince wanted the brunettes, Greg the redheads, and Draco claimed the blonds, “Except the Weaslette. She’s mine.” The subtext being if Draco couldn’t have Potter, then he would take his ex; Malfoy couldn’t be any more obvious about _that_ obsession unless he took out an ad in the _Daily Prophet_.

Theo had tried to stay out of it, disgusted by their behavior. How was this better than the common hoi poi? They turned on him, so he claimed the exotics, specifically the Patil twins, much to the ribald delight of his fellows. That night was the low point; he had thought about ending it all. The only thing that stopped him was Luna. What would happen if Draco got his hands on her? Young Draco liked to take and break Theo’s things. It’s precisely what he would do to Luna if he knew of Theo’s interest. After last year, Draco now had an appetite for destruction, Shiva incarnate. Theo would protect her, come what may.

He transfigured the desks into a comfortable sofa. He sat then patted the spot next to him. He wanted to drag her into his lap and bury his nose in her hair; instead, he held her hand, chastely. “Stay a little longer. Tell me about your summer.”

She nodded and told him about her experiments with plants. Combustible apples were perfect for applesauce. The song of the snails was a monotonic harmony; one note was all they could manage. Perfecting right-side-up-upside-down cake led to batter on the ceiling. In this happy bubble, he could almost believe this year would be normal and that the War raging outside the castle’s walls wouldn’t reach them.  

Almost.

 

* * *

 

Amycus crucioed a student before the first week ended. It was one of the mouthy, brash Gryffindors without any sense of self-preservation. Didn’t they know the rules had changed _?_

He told her to keep her head down, not to draw attention to herself. The Wizarding Public didn’t know the names of the children who had stood against the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. But those pledged to the Dark Lord did.

_“She’s a slip of a girl. Straw blonde hair. Big eyes. One of Potter’s lackeys. Find out everything about her you can, son. I won’t be in here forever. Notts always settle their accounts. Always.”_

Theo shivered, remembering his father’s face twisted in a sneer. Sharp, feral, hungry. He had been a boy then. A son. Heir to an Ancient and Noble house. Now, what was he? A liar? A coward? A blood traitor? 

He had spied on her for weeks as his father commanded. He was following her into the Forest where she fed the thestrals. Into the greenhouses where she would sing to the plants. Over the bridge where she would spin three times and walk across with her eyes closed. She told people it was because of something called a malingering snarfblatt. He was sure she was afraid of heights, just like him.

She was barefoot most days. At first, he thought it was another one of her eccentricities, like the radish earrings or the bottle cap necklace. When he watched two older Ravenclaw girls bullying her, he realized she hadn’t forgone shoes by choice.

The next day he watched as she slipped out of the castle, skipping every third step. She stopped short by the boulder where he had hidden them. With a little cry, she sat down and pulled on the silver shoes. The charm would activate once buckled. First, she would see a scene he had often drawn: a dragon flying across a summer sunset. It used all the colors in his pencil box. More important was the imperturbable charm on the shoes; they would find her each night. It was a fancy bit of magic, but her squeal of delight was worth the effort. “Thank you,” she whispered. Though he was disillusioned, she was looking right at him.

She was so precious, why didn’t anyone see it?

Today, he was meeting her in an alcove on the fifth floor. He heard it before he saw it. “Move out of the way, Looney. These kids need a lesson from Professor Malfoy!” Draco taunted. She was in danger. He jogged towards them, not sure what he would say.

“Oh, I agree. Do you want the melody or harmony?” Luna asked.

“What are you on about you daft bint?”

“Harmony then. _Buaf amhrán!_ ” A pink flash filled the hallway as he rounded the corner. He skidded to a stop, surprised to see Luna standing in front of three second-year Hufflepuffs with her wand drawn. She began to sing, “Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Woggy Hogwarts / Teach us something please…”

The hex made Malfoy croak the toad chorus. She sang the song twice, then dismissed the children with a wave. “You have a lovely voice, Draco. Did you know singing keeps the lutins happy so that they won’t put knots in your hair.” She smiled and patted his arm as she walked past. Malfoy stopped croaking and shook his head, trying to align his thoughts.

He glared at Theo. “You saw NOTHING!” Draco slammed into his shoulder and pushed him out of his way, retreating down the hallway.

It was dark when he found her in the greenhouse. She smiled brightly when she saw him. “Look, Theo, they bloomed.” She pointed to the small delicate blossoms with silver centers and blue petals. It’s a new variation, and I call it a Forget-me-N-O-T-T. A perfect mix of you and me.” She giggled as she handed him a bloom.

He twisted the stem between his fingers spinning it. He caught her reflection in a shattered glass panel that could have so easily been the outcome, her, broken, damaged beyond recognition. He had to say it. She had to understand. “Don’t ever do that again, Luna. He could have hurt you, really hurt you.”

Her smile dimmed. He gave her his arm to walk back to the castle under cover of darkness. He knew she would do it again. He hoped that when not if the time came, he would be strong enough to do what he needed to protect her.

 

* * *

 

“Meet me in Greenhouse 3 tonight after dinner. I have something to show you,” she said.

He scuffed his foot on the worn flagstone floor. Typically, he was tense waiting for her, but he felt lighter. Was this love? Given how he thought of her all day, he worried it was an obsession. He thought of how her smile drifted across her face like clouds on a summer’s day. How she moved like a little bird, jumping to inspect anything that tickled her fancy. How her eyes reflected every emotion at him a hundred, no, thousand times more powerful.

The door opened, and she shined, “Do you feel it?”

What? Undying love for you? Pain when you leave? The burning, yearning need to touch you and never let go? “No, I don’t think so. What should I be feeling?”

She stretched to circle his neck with her arms and gazed up at him, “Do you not even know what that feeling is? My poor, poor Galahad.” She brushed her lips over his. “It’s happiness.”

Theo was feeling something now, but he was quite sure it was something more sensual than happiness. If she moved any closer, she would feel it too. With resignation, he extracted himself from her arms.

“I crossed sneezewort, Fetnicula Fortuna, and Gerber daisies.” She gestured to perky circular blooms in jolly reds, yellows, pinks, blues, and purples. The had large, waxy, deep green leaves. As a puff of air stirred them, he swore he heard bells tinkling. She leaned in and whispered, “The secret is using a cheering charm when the blossoms fertilize.”

“So you’re growing happiness?”

Her smile was warm and wide at his realization. “They’ll brighten up the common rooms. I call them Zonkers. I had thought about calling them Chin-ups or Wheezies, but I do love the never-ending fart cushions at Zonkos, Daddy always laughs.” She touched the closest flower. “Not everyone can make a Patronus. It occurred to me that this year might be challenging. Plants adapt to their surroundings, however harsh they may be. They can teach us quite a lot.”

For someone who seemed to dance to the music playing somewhere in the astral plane, that was very perceptive. “May I help you carry them in?” asked Theo.

Luna hummed her agreement. He floated the four flats of plants toward the school. Even with a featherweight and his strongest levitation charms, they were awkward to move. Luna turned toward the kitchens, and Theo’s heart sank. Having the elves distribute them was smart, but going anywhere near the dungeons was not.

Then he heard Draco’s jaunty whistle. He turned to shove her out of the way, but her wand was already drawn. She petrified, silenced, and disillusioned him before he could get a syllable out. Malfoy rounded the corner. Luna confounded him before he even thought to draw. “Perhaps you can be of assistance, Draco. I have some flowers to brighten up the common rooms. Help me take them to the kitchen for the elves?”

Malfoy shook his head like he was trying to clear his mind. She placed her hand on his arm. He looked down then back up at her, nodded slowly, and flicked his wand, levitating the flats.

Theo watched them turn the corner; inside, he was screaming. How could she touch that villain with any kindness?

The following days he noticed Malfoy watching her. Theo knew he couldn’t wait much longer. If the choice were her freedom or her safety, he would lock her in chains and eat the key.

 

* * *

 

He watched Luna sleep. Her hair was spread over the pillow as soft light filled the Infirmary. She, Ginny, and Longbottom had been tortured during dinner for trying to steal a sword. There were deep marks in the palms of his hands where his nails had gouged the skin while he watched.

He kept finding excuses to keep her with him just a while longer. But _this_ was too much. She was as reckless as her friends. She was smarter than this. Surely she would understand why he had to do it. It was for her, him, and their future together. He would protect her, his future wife, even if it was from herself.

She roused and stretched. “Galahad, you have a nest of nargles around you.”

Theo smiled. “I have something I need your help with.” He reached into his pocket and set it on the side table before enlarging it. It was a medium-sized mirror with an ornate black frame and stand, heavily carved with snakes and monsters. The mirror glass was black and shiny as obsidian. “I found this mirror, and I have been trying to get it to work. But it doesn’t seem to respond to me.”

Her eyes lit up, “Oh, a mystery!” She grabbed her wand from the table and flicked it at the mirror, frowning when nothing happened.

“Try _Tenebrae Vincunt.”_

She glared at him, darkly, “I believe the full phrase is, _in absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt - in the absence of_ light, darkness prevails, to which I heartily disagree.”

He shrugged. “It’s the phrase I found with it. Perhaps it will work for you?”

She turned towards the mirror once again. “ _Tenebrae_ _Vincunt.”_  A pregnant pause, and then there was a wet, sucking sound and fluid oozed out of the mirror in a viscous flow. They watched as it formed into a Luna, like her in every way, except pure black. Luna clapped her hands with delight, and the dark Luna mirrored her. “She is marvelous.”

“Marvelous is she!” said dark Luna.

Luna played with her mirror image for an hour until she was tired. Theo was quite enchanted, watching the two of them. He, like every boy in his year, had inappropriate thoughts about the Patil twins, but two Lunas were much more tantalizing. Too soon, their time was done.

With the counter charm, _Tenebrae Recessus_. Dark Luna retreated into the mirror with a slurp. Luna begged him to arrange another meeting with her mirror image. Theo allowed himself to be cajoled.

She was training her replacement, after all.

 

* * *

 

By Yule, they had worked out how to change Dark Luna’s coloring, and her speech was mostly correct. They even named her ‘Moons.’

That night, Luna had gone to see the thestrals. They were restless, probably from the werewolves camped in the Forbidden Forest. He caught her at the greenhouse as she walked back toward the castle. He was so nervous about his plan, his robe damp from drying his sweaty palms.

She laughed when she saw him. “Playtime with Moons?”

He gestured to the mirror, “Yes, but I found another incantation. Can you try _Imago Animi?_ You know the mirror doesn’t work for me. It’s maddening.”

“Mirror of the mind? Or the soul? Let’s see what it does.” Brow furrowed, she waved her wand and said the words.

Instead of the inky ooze, the black quicksilver of the mirror surged out like a wave. It engulfed Luna, smothering her gasp. The liquid flowed silver and black, swirling before separating, creating a silver Luna and a black Luna, mirror images. They touched palms. Every action was perfectly in sync. Then the silver Luna was sucked into the mirror frame with a wet slurp.

Theo reached out to Dark Luna. She turned toward him and extended her hand. It was cool to the touch. He came close to her. His breath fogged on her cheek. He touched his wand to her. “ _Pigmento Pallide.”_ The dark faded into the typical colors of the uniform and Luna’s skin and hair.

Theo let out a sigh of relief. It had worked. They had switched places. Now he need only ride out the storm. He peered into the mirror. Instead of black, it was now silver. After a moment Luna’s face appeared. He couldn’t hear her, but he could see her tears - her face was a map of anguish.

Theo shrank the glass to put in his pocket. This was for her own good. Her father was putting her in danger by publishing his mad ideas about Potter and his merry band of idiots. Luna was becoming almost Gryffindorish in her own recklessness. He would protect her. He would keep her safe by hiding her. They would be together in the end. She would understand. She had to.

He hurried out of the greenhouse, missing the footprints in the snow that shouldn’t have been there.

 

* * *

 

The Snatchers took Moons off the train. Yule, with his father, was tense. The festivities at Malfoy Manor were even worse. It would be a relief to return to Hogwarts. His only solace was the brief time he allowed himself to view Luna. He wondered how time passed where she was. He would know soon enough. He could release her once the War was over. She would be mad as the Furies, but she would be _alive_. His plan was working.

Unfortunately, not as well as he'd thought.

“Show me, Luna,” Malfoy demanded one night in the common room after everyone had gone to bed.

Theo's stomach sank. “She’s at Malfoy Manor. You know that.”

“No, her reflection is there. The real Luna is in your pocket.”

Theo drew his wand to curse Malfoy, but he was a half-flick behind him. Instead, he fell to the floor, petrified as the blond got the drop on him. Malfoy knelt beside him and rifled through his pockets. He found the mirror and enlarged it. “O-ho, here she is.” Out of the corner of his eye, Theo could see Luna gesturing wildly. “Now, how do I get her out?” He tried  _Finite_ and  _Imago Animi._ Neither worked.

Theo fought the petrification. His wand was still in his hand. Wordless incantations wouldn’t work without a wand, and wandless casting was impossible without words. He needed the sheer force of will to break the hold.

“You are twisted, Nott, trapping her in a mirror. She’ll be so pleased to be free. I’ll bet she’ll do anything I say. Appreciative too. So very, very appreciative.” His grin was vile. “What do you think, Nott? Any tips on how she shows her appreciation? Oh, right, you can’t say.”

Theo was sweating from his exertion.

“Why won’t this blasted charm work? Oh, I know, it’s a mirror. _Animi Imago._ ”

The silver of the mirror flowed out just as Theo broke through the hex. He summoned the mirror toward him. Malfoy grabbed it. “Ah, ah, Aaah, it’s mine now, Nott.”

Luna’s silver form had almost drained from the mirror. Theo pulled with all his power.

Then Draco let go.

For one instant, Theo thought he could catch the mirror frame, but he was no seeker. It crashed to the floor, shattering. Theo looked at Luna, his beautiful, perfect Luna, as her face fractured and cracked. With a small smile, she disintegrated into a pile of silver shards that dimmed to a dull grey.

Horror-struck, Malfoy left the room quickly. Purity didn’t conquer. It ran away.   

Theo buried his hands in the shards trying to find what he'd lost, grasp what he missed, bring back what was gone until his hands were shredded and bleeding. Then he stared at the pile for hours; sure he saw Luna’s face in the shards.

Magic wouldn’t fail him. If it took a lifetime, he would see her again.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first round entry to the [2019 Death by Quill](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DeathByQuill) competition hosted by the [The Slytherin Cabal](https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheSlytherinCabal/).


End file.
